


Drawbridge

by Totling



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totling/pseuds/Totling
Summary: Just when Futaba was starting to believe that there was nothing actually there between them - that all the hesitation and awkwardness and near misses were just her over-thinking things, and nothing more - Makoto spun around, red-faced, and kissed her.





	Drawbridge

**Author's Note:**

> "Be the thirst quench you seek in the fandom," I said to myself, and then to my big sis. Then she laughed at me and I did it anyway.

Makoto kissed her first.

Just when Futaba was starting to believe that there was nothing actually there between them - that all the hesitation and awkwardness and near misses were just her over-thinking things, and nothing more - Makoto spun around, red-faced, and kissed her.

She still came by Leblanc like, all the time. Despite an outrageous almost double load of college courses (no one could say Makoto wasn’t an ambitious girl), there was never a week that went by where Makoto didn’t make at least one appearance in the tiny shop. Which suited Futaba just fine - she didn’t like to admit it, but she missed hanging out with everyone. Group chat and messaging back and forth was fine and all, but there was something nice about actually seeing people too.

At some point, whenever she stayed past closing time, Makoto started to walk Futaba home after locking up. She didn’t need to - Futaba walked that distance like, a hundred times a week, but she never complained about the company. That argument wouldn’t have stopped Makoto, anyway. She’d tried it once. Makoto just raised an eyebrow and shook her head and that was that. Futaba never brought it up again. 

That kind of thing happened once or more a month now.

It was nice. As nice as the long afternoons the two spent in the café too, Futaba thought. Sometimes they went hours without even speaking. They’d just sit in a booth, side by side, going over their books or course work or anything else that came up. If Makoto were busy on some important paper, Futaba let her concentrate and played mobile games to pass the time. On silent even, to help the older girl better keep her focus.

Makoto appreciated it. She said she did anyway, and Futaba couldn’t disbelieve her. No way.

When had things changed? When had the brush of Makoto’s shoulder against her own sent Futaba’s pulse to race? Was it before Makoto began messaging Futaba long into the night on weekends she couldn’t visit? After Sojiro began to scowl whenever he left them alone together?

Well, OK. That wasn’t exactly a recent development. He was always sighing heavily and grouching at people like a proper old man. He did it to all the former thieves, whenever any of them came to visit, so did that even count? Was that supposed to matter or something?

Futaba couldn’t say. All she knew was that Makoto had just kissed her, full on the lips, and was now pulling away.

They’d been at this game for months now, if it was even a game. They sat too close. Makoto brushed the hair away when it fell over her eyes. Futaba draped over her shoulder and watched Makoto’s cheeks flare red when she breathed against her neck. Sometimes Futaba would grab her pens just to have Makoto’s fingers loop through hers to take them back. Other times, Makoto’s chin lay on Futaba’s shoulder and she poked at Futaba’s phone, never quite as helpful as she meant to be during rhythm games. No matter what, it always ended with them laughing warmly together. 

It was fun. 

It was lonely. 

It left her wanting more every time it ended, no matter how small. 

But what more could she ask for then? The thought of kissing - of anything more intimate than those fleeting touches - filled Futaba with warmth. There were nights when she wanted nothing else on Earth. Somehow, she couldn’t spark enough of it to flame her courage to try.

Her mind was working overtime now trying to make sense of what had happened. All she really knew was that Makoto had spoken to Sojiro that evening. That was bound to be another boring conversation, like always, Futaba remembered thinking. And since it was so boring, she hadn’t paid it any attention.Sometimes she stopped listening to them talk. Terms, permissions, be careful not to break whatever, yadda yadda, who cared? Not Futaba. She didn’t even bother to listen to the whole thing.

Maybe she should have.

Once the old man had taken off, things were great, as always. And they happened just as always. Right? Makoto smiled at her like always and took the seat snug beside Futaba in the farthest booth, like always. Makoto didn’t have as much work to do as usual, but that left more time for fun. They’d played around on Futaba’s phone and laughed, finally even texting Akira together. He said he was fine though bored, and glad they all remembered he existed even after months apart. Futaba let on that he always sounded lonely; Makoto had agreed without hesitation. They’d visit soon enough. They’d already promised him an entire summer vacation with a full team. 

Then he had gone quiet with his responses and things in the shop went quiet too. Futaba remembered that lonely feeling sinking in her stomach. Maybe Makoto felt it too? She hadn’t exactly asked or said anything about it. They’d just drifted into the same silence. Maybe, and something in her gut went all wobbly at the prospect, maybe Makoto was just missing Akira.

It had occurred to Futaba then that it had been months since any kind of silence felt so heavy. Not since Makoto had upped her visits. 

It couldn’t have been longer than fifteen minutes before they both awkwardly packed and picked up. That synchronization wasn’t unusual, at least. Only the prickly anxiety was new. 

Together they flipped the sign and locked the door, like always. It never took long to close the place up. Then they walked slowly down the backstreets of Yongen-Jaya toward the Sakura house. 

Even that was normal by now. Futaba liked walking with Makoto, even though strictly speaking she didn’t need to. None of their other friends did. The sense of closeness and peace that came on those walks was amazing. Not quite like a key item, but definitely a high level one.

As slow as they walked, it was a short distance to cover. It only took a few minutes to get back to the house even when they dawdled. In no time at all, it was time to part. 

That’s when Futaba realized something was off. It wasn’t until she had one foot past the gate that she realized Makoto was fretting. She kept smoothing back her hair even though it wasn’t mussed in the least and she couldn’t keep her hands still. How very unlike her.

“What’s up?” Futaba asked. Makoto jumped in place and shook her head quickly.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing!” Makoto protested. Her voice shook slightly; that was odd too. Futaba didn’t believe that any more than she believed the cake was real. 

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “C’mon, spill it! Deets, deets, deets!”

When Makoto didn’t answer, Futaba huffed. She turned around to face the older girl and saw her standing there with her eyes closed, breathing in deeply. Powering up? It confused Futaba just long enough that when Makoto’s eyes reopened, she was still frozen to the spot.

And that’s when Makoto kissed her.

Under the streetlights of Yongen-Jaya, right in front of her front door, she felt her heart flutter in a dance she had never felt before.

Makoto pulled away before Futaba’s brain could catch up to the present. Her eyes were wide and she couldn’t move. She was near absolutely sure that she had become a statue out of shock, but for the pounding in her chest. 

“Whoa.”

“Oh, oh no, oh I am so sorry,” Makoto said all in one rushed breath. Her face was redder and she looked suddenly panicked. “I shouldn’t have done that. I mean, I wanted to, obviously, b-but first I should have- “

“ _Whoa_.”

The experience caught up with her as suddenly as it happened. Futaba squeaked and dropped behind the gated fence in the dooryard, both hands flying up to cover her heated cheeks. Her fingers brushed her lips and she felt her heart flutter strangely again. She heard Makoto start to say something and cut herself off with a tense sigh, which only reminded Futaba that she was very much not alone outside.

“I think I failed the test,” Makoto was muttering. Futaba perked up just a little more, turning to look over the wall’s edge.

“What … test?”

She spoke the words carefully, unsure where they would lead. Makoto hesitated again, her hands moving to smooth imaginary wrinkles from her impeccably smooth coat.

“The test about lo… “ Once again, Makoto stopped herself short. This time though, her eyes went wide and she hung her head. “I skipped a step,” she realized aloud. Futaba had no idea what any of that meant.

“Um. And?”

Two words was good. About all she could handle. The really good news (aside from the obvious, her lips tingled in reminder) was that Makoto didn’t question it, anyway. She didn’t usually. But then again she’d never kissed her before, either. 

“I … I wanted to… “ Trailing off again, Makoto stepped into the dooryard. She turned to face Futaba, shoulders squared and jaw set, before she blushed dark and hung her head. 

“I like you!”

Futaba squeaked and tensed in place. “S-since when?!”

“... Months ago?”

It wasn’t the answer she expected. Actually, Futaba didn’t know what she expected to hear, but it certainly wasn’t that. She could feel her jaw drop and the gears grinding in her brain. Every touch, every shared smile came rushing through her memory in a whirlwind flash. 

The more that she had wanted … 

Futaba’s wide-eyed stare intensified. “A-a-a-are you trying to say we could’ve been doing that for months?!”

“Um.” Makoto stared back. The surprise was evident in her large eyes. “Yes?”

On the grass they stayed silent. Both girl looked at the other, admiring in silence the glow of the streetlights on her face. 

“You waited.” That definitely wasn’t enough for her to go on. Futaba pushed her glasses up her nose and breathed. “How come?”

Makoto’s voice was so gentle. “I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way. I value our friendship too much to... You’ve wanted to for months too?”

_Wanted to ... too._

One heartbeat passed. Two. Three. Futaba didn’t wait for the fourth to ring in her ears like the others. She was on her feet before her pulse could pound again. She flushed so hot she couldn’t think. As Makoto looked on, Futaba balled her fists and screwed her courage to the max. How hard could it be after feeling that confession?

“Over Limit Break!” she cheered, waving a hand to the sky. Makoto flinched at the high volume.

“W-what?”

Good question. Futaba hesitated in answering herself, drawing her hand back down and fiddling both her hands before her. Poke, poke, poking her index fingertips together, she took her chance. Her power up gauge was still full enough for a real request. “Then… ! C-c-c-could you do it again?”

There were stars in the sky, but they couldn’t be seen for the bright lights of the inner city. There were stars over Yongen too, but Futaba only saw the ones behind her eyes when Makoto smiled and kissed her a second time.


End file.
